


let my imagination run away with you gladly

by laminy



Series: set my alarm, turn on my charm [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pining, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 17:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17626382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laminy/pseuds/laminy
Summary: Ben's been in love with Gwil since they started filming. It's the weekend of the SAG awards before Joe can finally convince him that Gwilym probably feels the same way too.





	let my imagination run away with you gladly

Joe glances over at the two of them when he hears Gwilym say Ben’s name loudly. He thinks maybe they shouldn’t have gotten him _so_ drunk, but hey, Gwil’s an adult, he can decide that type of thing for himself. He catches Ben’s eye as Gwilym puts his hand on Ben’s neck, pulling him in just a little bit closer.

Ben is aware of the cameras around them, is aware of how drunk Gwilym is, how drunk they _both_ are. He wants to close his eyes and let Gwilym draw him in even further, but he knows, even without looking at the look on Joe’s face, that that’d be a bad idea. He sighs and lets Gwilym talk at him, trying to keep himself composed. The last thing he needs is to wake up tomorrow and have pictures of him so _obviously_ in love with Gwilym posted all over Instagram.

Especially since he’s pretty sure Gwil doesn’t feel that way about him.

“Hey guys,” Joe says, appearing behind Gwilym’s shoulder, “do we wanna…” He trails off, glancing back at the cars lined up past the photographers and the fans. “Car’s here.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ben says quietly, stepping back from Gwil to follow Joe to their ride, but Gwilym keeps talking to him, puts his hand back on Ben’s shoulder, the other one grasping at his arm. Ben’s feeling fine, a little loose, a little warm, but Gwilym…well, Gwilym should be in bed pretty soon. He steps off the curb in the front of the car, then takes an awkward step back when he remembers he’s not in the UK, and the passenger side is right in front of him. He leans down and opens the front door, holding it for Gwilym. “You’re alright, mate,” he murmurs, watching Gwil awkwardly climb into the front seat. He shuts the door, and then meets Joe’s eye over the roof of the car as they both open the back. 

Joe slides in, fumbling for a second with his seatbelt before glancing over at Ben, who hasn’t bothered with his. He’s just sitting, looking at the seat in front of him thoughtfully, hand up by his mouth. “Hey hey now,” he says, reaching out to him, “I don’t want anybody dying tonight, put it on.”

Ben sighs heavily, looking over at Joe before finally reaching up, pulling on the seatbelt.

“Yeah!” Gwilym says from the front, a bit too enthusiastically. He turns in his seat, looking at the both of them. “Don’t die.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Ben replies, clicking it into place, then turning his head to look out the window.

“Hey, I mean it,” Gwilym says, eyes focusing on Ben. “No dying.”

Ben smiles and his eyes flick over to Gwil’s, giving him a quick nod. “I promise,” he replies. Fuck, his voice sounds rough. He clears his throat and looks back out the window, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Gwilym still watching him for a few moments longer before he turns back in his seat.

“Hey,” Joe says softly. Ben doesn’t reply, he just wants to sit and be quiet, but he finally has to turn his head when Joe says ‘hey’ again and then reaches out to shake his arm. 

“What?” Ben asks.

Joe looks at Gwil, who’s distracted by something on his phone. “You know.”

Ben groans, shaking his head. He pushes his hair back from his face, and looks back at the window.

“ _Hey_ ,” Joe says again insistently.

“ _What_?” Ben asks, a bit sharper this time.

“Why not?” Joe asks.

“Hey, what’s going on back there?” Gwilym asks, turning in his seat again. “Are you guys whispering?” He reaches back, grabbing Joe’s knee. “What are we whispering about? Is it a game? Can I play?”

“No, it’s— it’s not a game, Gwil, turn back around before you get sick,” Joe says, lifting Gwil’s hand off his leg. Joe looks back at Ben, tilting his head.

“Because,” Ben says, gesturing towards Gwilym in front of him. “Come on, what am I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to tell him _before_ he got wasted,” Joe replies quietly, leaning towards him.

“Yeah well, that didn’t seem as much fun as when you originally suggested it,” Ben replies. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back against the seat. “Oh wait,” he says suddenly, “it was _never_ a fun idea, it was shit.”

“Are you guys talking about me?” Gwilym asks.

“Yes, we’re talking about your suit, Gwil,” Joe says quickly.

“Thanks,” Gwilym sighs, shifting in his seat, “it’s purple.”

Ben chuckles softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Joe frowns at Gwil in confusion, and then quickly shakes his head. 

“Fuck he’s a dumb drunk,” Joe mutters. “Good thing he’s pretty. Anyway, it was a _good_ idea.”

“I’m an emoji!”

Joe sighs and screws his eyes shut for a moment. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward to grasp onto Gwilym’s shoulder. “Gwil, are you alright up here?” he asks. “You seem to be having a hard time by yourself.”

“Guess which one,” Gwilym says.

“Which one what, Gwil?” Joe asks, trying to be patient, but failing just a bit.

“Emoji,” Gwilym replies. 

“Uh…” Joe frowns again. “What?”

“Eggplant,” Ben says, smiling. “He’s an eggplant.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” Gwilym says, and he turns suddenly, almost knocking heads with Joe before Joe quickly sits back in his seat. “Cheers, Ben,” he says, and he reaches his hand out to him.

Ben swallows hard, and then finally, slowly reaches out, squeezing Gwilym’s hand. “Cheers,” he says softly.

“I’m tired,” Gwilym says, but he keeps his hand in Ben’s.

“We’re almost back at the hotel,” Ben assures him. “It’ll be bed time soon.”

“Promise?” Gwilym asks, and Ben nods. Gwilym smiles at him, and finally lets his hand drop from Ben’s, turning back in his seat.

Ben bites his lip, watching Gwilym for moments longer, until he realizes that Joe’s staring at him. “What?” he asks.

Joe scoffs, and gestures between the two of them. “What? I mean—” He opens his eyes wide. “ _Really_?”

“He’s _drunk_ ,” Ben replies.

“So?” Joe asks. “So are we.”

Ben scoffs, shaking his head. “Joe, drop it. Please.”

Joe looks away. “What about tomorrow?”

“What about it?” Ben asks.

“It’s a brand new day.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Yeah that’s usually how it works, Joe. Every day.”

“And…” Joe says, waving his hands between them. “He’ll be sober. All day. Morning, afternoon…”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s the SAGs, Joe,” Ben replies. “Okay? What— I’m supposed to—” He glances at Gwilym’s seat, wondering just how much he’s paying attention to them. “And then we walk the red carpet together? Sit there and eat our dinner together?”

“Yeah, like a couple,” Joe replies, “like all the other couples there who will be doing the exact same thing.”

“But what if—” Ben just shakes his head and stops talking, looking back out the window. “Joe, I’m done for the night, okay? Please stop.”

Joe sighs, looking down at his hands folded on his lap. He reaches over and unbuckles his seat belt, sliding across the seat to Ben.

“Joe, what—”

Joe snuggles against Ben’s side, leaning against his shoulder. “No ‘buts’,” he says. “Come on. You know. We all know.”

Ben brings his hand up to his mouth, biting down on his thumbnail. He does know. Well, he _thinks_ he does. He always thinks he does. He thought about it during filming, then any of the numerous times he and Gwil hung out together after, in London, in Scotland. Then during the early days of the BoRhap press tour, before he had to go to Italy. He came closest when they were FaceTiming once, Gwil in Japan…and then again after the Golden Globes. He almost asked him to dance at Allen’s wedding, but thought that would be too much of a distraction from the big day. At least that’s what he told himself.

He always think he knows the way Gwil looks at him. Then something in the back of his head tells him he’s wrong, those looks can’t possibly mean what he thinks they mean, and then he doesn’t. 

Ben sighs, and looks down at Joe, who’s watching him closely with his big brown eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks quietly, and Joe just nods. Ben sighs again.

“Are you guys cuddling without me?” Gwilym asks, and Joe shoots up when he hears the click of Gwil’s seatbelt unbuckling.

“Whoa whoa, buddy,” Joe says, leaning forward.

Ben laughs softly, watching Joe try to fumble with Gwilym, pushing him back down into his seat. _What about tomorrow_ , he thinks.

\+ + + + +

“ _Thanks for the hangover_?” Ben asks in playful shock, watching as Gwilym drops down heavily in the armchair. “That’s all we get?”

“What else do you want?” Gwilym murmurs, rubbing the side of his head, trying to get a bit of relief as he waits for the Advil to kick in. “I hate you.”

Ben laughs loudly, taking in the sight in front of him. They’ve congregated for a room service lunch in Joe’s hotel room, at Joe’s insistence because he was feeling particularly lazy that morning. Gwilym looks rumpled, tired, and absolutely not like he’s going to be a on red carpet in just a few hours. For his part, Ben’s a little tired, but that’s not unusual. He’s sat on the floor with his food in front of him, because when he hopped onto the king-sized bed with Joe, Joe unceremoniously shoved him off, deciding he needed to take up the whole thing. 

“Is that really the best photo we took last night?” Joe asks, studying Gwilym’s Instagram. “I’m gonna post another one. I have better angles.”

Ben grins, chucking a French fry up at Joe, then takes a big bite of his burger. He knows there will be dinner at the show tonight, but he’s starving _now_ , and though it might not be the healthiest option, he also can’t be bothered to give a fuck, sheer shirt or not. He looks over at Gwilym, who’s watching him back. “Bite?” he asks, mouth full, lifting the burger.

Gwilym, who looks just a bit green, closes his eyes and shakes his head. 

“You have to eat, Gwil,” Joe says flatly, not looking up from his phone. “What if you faint on the red carpet?” He starts to smile at the idea.

Gwilym snorts, resting his head on his fist. “I’ll be fine, I just…need a minute.”

“What time do we have to be ready by?” Ben asks, taking another bite.

“Red carpet starts at 2:30,” Gwilym replies.

“Shit,” Ben murmurs, checking the time on his phone. He knows it will only take him about five minutes to get dressed, but that still feels soon. And if he’s planning on _finally_ getting up the courage before they leave, then it’s _really_ too soon. He has to tell Joe he’s backing out. Maybe Oscar weekend. Or never, who knows.

“Just be happy we’re not Lucy and Jess,” Joe says. “They’re in hair and make-up already.” He finishes his post and then tosses his phone into his pile of blankets, reaching over to grab his food off the nightstand. 

Ben sets his burger down and gives his hands a quick wipe off with the napkin before picking up Gwilym’s plate from the tray, shuffling over to him on his knees. He holds it up to him, smiling. “You gonna eat this?” he asks. He hears Joe snort behind him, but tries to just ignore it. 

Gwilym sighs and takes the plate from Ben, giving him a small thankful smile. He’d ordered a chicken sandwich, which sounded delicious before his stomach took a turn for the worse. Looking at it now, he feels rather torn.

Ben smiles back, then pushes himself up, walking into the bathroom to rinse his hands.

Gwilym forgets his lunch, raising his eyes to watch him walk away. Joe snorts again, and Gwilym quickly looks over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Forget it,” Joe says, trying not to laugh around the food in his mouth.

“Forget what?” Ben asks, walking back out into the room, glancing back and forth between Joe and Gwilym.

“Nothing,” Joe says quickly, giving Ben a quick smile that 100 percent makes Ben think he’s been up to something in the 10 seconds he was gone.

“I’m gonna go grab a shower,” Ben says, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Awww,” Joe groans, looking over at him. “I thought we were all getting ready together!”

Ben laughs. “Yeah, and you got one bloody shower, mate, so how’s that gonna work?”

Joe shrugs. “We can share,” he says. “You and Gwil go first.” He gives him another cheeky grin.

Ben sputters for a moment, looking over at Gwilym, trying to hide his embarrassment and play it off like it’s another joke. “Uh, well…you first?” he says, immediately realizing how dumb that was. He shakes his head quickly to clear his thoughts. “I’m going to my room. I can come back here, we can get dressed together, if that’s what you want.”

Joe shrugs. “No, we can just get ready separately,” he says. “That way it will be all the more dramatic when we see each other. Just come back when you’re done.”

Ben nods. “Alright, see you in a bit, mate.” He turns and sees Gwilym pushing himself out of his chair. 

“I’m coming back for that sandwich,” Gwilym says, “but I should grab a shower too.”

“Alright, see you guys later,” Joe says, going back to his food.

Gwilym smiles and opens the door, holding it for Ben as they step out into the hallway. They turn right, walking in-step together.

Ben’s mind is racing, and he feels the usual nervous pit in his stomach, but he just gives Gwilym a quick smile, hoping he looks a lot calmer than he feels. They arrive at his room first, and Ben digs his key out of his pocket. “See you back at Joe’s?” he asks, unlocking the door.

Gwilym seems as if he’s about to say something, but instead he just nods, and gives him a quick wave as Ben steps into his room.

Ben smiles back, and then closes the door behind him. He groans loudly, slumping against it, then realizes Gwilym probably heard him. “Shit,” he mutters. Then a moment later, his phone is buzzing. “What?” he asks.

“Oh, that’s not a good sign,” Joe says.

“What?”

“If you guys were making out right now, you probably wouldn’t be answering your phone,” Joe explains. “Should I assume you still don’t have the balls to say anything?”

“It’s a 20 second walk from your room to mine, Joe, what was I supposed to say?” Ben asks.

“I don’t know, I think ‘ _I love you_ ’ only takes about one,” Joe replies. “The other 19 are up to you.”

“If I tell him that _now_ , before we go to this stupid thing, it’s just going to ruin the night,” Ben says. 

“That’s assuming he turns you down, which I can assure you, he will not.”

Ben sighs and toes off his sneakers, kicking them aside. “What do you know about it?”

“Well, I saw him checking out your ass approximately two minutes ago, so my intel is pretty good.”

“You did not.”

Joe chuckles. “Okay, tell me I’m wrong. Whatever. Look dude, I get it. You’re nervous, that’s fair.”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Ben asks.

“Well, if not now, when?”

Ben flicks on the light in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. “Let me guess: you’re not just talking about this conversation.”

“You caught me,” Joe says. “Gwil goes to Sundance in a couple days, I don’t even _know_ where you’re going, Mister Paris Fashion Week. Oscars aren’t for a month. That’s a _whole month_ that you and him could be— well, I don’t want to offend your young ears, but let’s just say, you could be having fun.”

Ben smiles at the thought. 

“So here’s my final piece on this, okay?” Joe says. “Just fucking do it because I’m sick of the puppy eyes. See you later!” The call ends.

Ben groans again. He sets his phone on the counter, and catches his eyes in the mirror. “Goddammit,” he says to himself. He shakes his head, annoyed. He tugs his shirt over his head, and then drops it on the floor, reaching into the shower to turn on the water. “Fucking fuck,” he mutters.

\+ + + + +

“No mate, I’m almost ready though,” Ben tells Allen, quickly glancing over himself in the full-length mirror. He thinks he’s finally got his hair; they offered to send someone to his room to do it for him, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. He’s just missing his shoes and his jacket, otherwise he’s ready to go. “We’re meeting in Joe’s. Yeah? Alright, I’ll see you in a bit. Cheers.” He ends the call, tossing his phone onto the bed behind him. There’s a couple knocks at his door, and he starts walking over. “Allen, I said _Joe’s_!” He unlocks the door and tugs it open, expecting to see Allen and Jessica.

“Sorry, just me,” Gwilym says.

“Holy shit, Gwil,” Ben says before he can even think about stopping himself. Because _holy shit_ Gwilym looks amazing. “I, uh…” Ben lets out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry. Wow, you clean up well!” He clears his throat and offers Gwilym a smile, stepping back so he can walk into Ben's room. Jesus, he’s embarrassing himself.

“Thanks, Ben,” Gwilym says, quickly studying Ben and his outfit. “Really?” he asks.

“What?” Ben says, glancing down at himself. “I’m almost ready, just need my jacket.”

“Are you really wearing that shirt again?” Gwilym asks, gesturing at him.

Ben smiles and shrugs. Oh, _that_. Well. “Still fits alright, doesn’t it? I gotta get my money’s worth.” He smiles, and walks over to the closest, grabbing his jacket. He tugs it on, and turns around, giving Gwilym a playful pose. “It’s alright, isn’t it?” He shifts on his feet under Gwilym’s gaze, looking away. 

Gwilym smiles and nods. "Yeah, of course it is. No tie?” he asks.

Ben shakes his head. “Still not my thing.”

“Alright, alright, Mister Fashion,” Gwilym says, and Ben grins.

“That’s _twice_ today I’ve been made fun of because of my fashion sense,” Ben says, and he shrugs his jacket off, carefully hanging it back up. “I can’t tell if you’re haters or just jealous.”

Gwilym rolls his eyes, but he quickly grins so that Ben knows he’s not serious. “It is sheer, you know that right?”

It’s Ben’s turn to roll his eyes. “Oh really? I must’ve missed that.” He dramatically looks down. “Oh shit, those _are_ my nipples!” He laughs loudly. “I think it’s alright, Gwil, the jacket keeps it from being too scandalous.” He does suddenly feel the urge to cross his arms, though. “What’s up?” he asks. “Here for tea?”

Gwilym shrugs. “Knocked on Joe’s door, said he wasn’t ready yet, figured I’d check in.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” Ben nods. “I’m good to go whenever.”

Gwilym smiles, and then looks around the room. “Alright if I sit?” he asks, gesturing towards Ben’s bed.

Ben swallows hard, and then nods. “Yeah, course,” he says, quickly clearing his throat and giving Gwilym a smile. “Want something to drink?” he asks.

Gwilym quickly shakes his head, unbuttoning his jacket. “No, I’m still— I’m going to take it easier today, I think. Thanks, though. You can go ahead.”

“Oh, no,” Ben says softly, and then he looks around. He walks over to the armchair in the corner of the room, but it’s so far from Gwilym and the bed that he just feels dumb, so he turns around and walks back to where he was, slipping his hands in his pockets.

“Alright?” Gwilym asks.

“Mm-hmm,” Ben nods, starting to pace a bit. “Just— hate being ready early, you know?” He glances at his wrist then dumbly remembers he’s not wearing a watch. 

“Nervous?”

Ben nods again. “Yeah, yeah, I think,” he says. He _is_ , but probably not for the reason Gwilym thinks. “First one of these we’ve been nominated for, right? Might have to…well, we probably won’t, but you know, a speech.” They’ve already casually discussed it; they’re not expecting to win, but if they do, they’re going to let Lucy speak. He suddenly can’t remember if they’ve told Lucy that or not.

“Right,” Gwilym says, and the tone in his voice makes Ben think he doesn’t completely believe him.

“And, well, presenting!” Ben says, even though they’ve run through rehearsals, and Ben and Joe don’t actually have anything to say. They still have to be on stage, though.

“Mm.”

Ben sighs, wondering what else he can come up to explain why he can’t stop moving. “And the article, what if people ask us about the article?” _That_ is a genuine worry of Ben’s, the article or his Instagram post. He’s not sure what people are allowed to ask them, but he knows he won’t have a good answer. His hand slips out of his pocket and he reaches up, almost about to run his fingers through his hair before he stops himself, fingers clenching into a fist. He really does quite likes the way his hair looks right now.

“Ben, sit down,” Gwilym says suddenly, and Ben turns to look at him in surprise. Gwilym pats the bed, and shifts a bit. 

“Yeah, alright,” Ben murmurs, walking over to the bed. He takes his other hand out of his pocket as he sits, adjusting his trousers which are just a bit tighter in the upper thigh than he’d like.

“Is this really about the speech?” Gwilym asks. 

Ben shakes his head.

“Or presenting?”

Ben shakes his head again, reaching up to nervously rub at his mouth. If only you could smoke in hotel rooms.

Gwilym doesn’t ask if it’s about the article, because honestly, he’s a bit nervous that too, but still, he doesn’t think Ben should be _that_ worried. Not like this. “It’s just a bit of fun, really,” he says, and he drops his hand onto Ben’s thigh, looking over at him. “We get to eat, drink, listen to some bad speeches from people we’ve never met. At least they let us in this time.”

Ben smiles and nods, before dropping his head a bit, studying Gwilym’s hand. He sighs and then lifts his hand, dropping it on top of Gwilym’s, gently squeezing it. “Dumb, aren’t I?” he asks. He’s not even sure what he’s referring to, really.

Gwilym smiles and shakes his head. “You’re not dumb,” he says. “You’re a possible future SAG winner!” 

Ben smiles and playfully bumps shoulders with him. “Right, that’s great. That’ll really help.” He wonders if he should’ve moved his hand by now; he thinks yes, but Gwilym hasn’t made a move to take his hand away yet, so why not just keep it there a little while longer. He takes a deep breath and lets himself settle a little against Gwilym.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or do I have to ask Joe?” Gwilym asks.

Ben shrugs. “It’s nothing, really. Just a…” He bites down on the inside of his lip. “Thing.”

“Riveting.”

Ben smiles. “It’s hard to explain.”

“If Joe’s involved, I doubt that very much.”

Ben laughs, and glances at Gwilym, meeting his eyes. It sort of hits him all of a sudden just how close they’re sitting to each other. He tenses a bit, and makes a move to stand up, but Gwilym’s hand squeezes his thigh, and he settles back down.

“Is it an embarrassing thing?” Gwilym asks.

Ben meets his eyes again, and nods.

Gwilym smiles. “I didn’t know you two were capable of being embarrassed. I think you’ve implied you’re fucking at least 20 times on Instagram by now.”

Ben feels his cheeks get hot, and he looks back down at his lap. “It’s…sort of along those lines,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. He feels Gwilym’s hand tighten again.

“You and— _Joe_?”

Ben quickly looks up. “What? No! Oh my god, no.” He wants to laugh with how ridiculous it is. Sure, Joe’s _cute_ , and he’s definitely a catch, but it’s not like that with him at all.

Gwilym studies Ben. “Then what? If it’s not Joe…God, please tell me it’s not Ryan Reynolds.”

Ben snorts. “No, no, no worries there.” He smiles. He finds himself _wanting_ to tell Gwil; this moment has bumped that Japan FaceTime call off the number one spot for just how badly he wants to tell him. But the timing for this is way, _way_ worse. They’re going to be in front of a hundred cameras and reporters in less than two hours. They’re going to be at the same table all night.

“Good, because I don’t know how I could compete,” Gwilym says quietly.

Ben smiles and glances over at him. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he replies. “Not even close.” God he’s _so_ close. To Gwil, to admitting it, to freaking out and saying he’s suddenly too sick to attend, to everything. He can feel his heart pounding, his entire body feels tense. He’s about to do _something_ , and as much as he desperately wants it to be telling Gwilym the truth, he doesn’t want anything to take away from this night. He sighs and gives Gwilym’s hand a gentle squeeze before he starts to stand up. He doesn’t get far before Gwilym’s tugging him back down, bringing him in for a kiss. Ben makes a surprised noise, frozen in place. Is Gwilym kissing him? That doesn’t make sense, does it? Why would Gwil—

“I’m sorry,” Gwilym says, pulling back, resting his forehead on Ben’s. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

It finally clicks, and Ben moves back in, pressing his lips to Gwil’s. He cups Gwilym’s head in his hands, holding him close as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, then licks his way into his mouth.

Gwilym moans and moves his hands to Ben’s waist, tugging at him until Ben gets the message and climbs onto Gwilym’s lap. 

“Wait,” Ben says breathlessly, “your suit.”

Gwilym smiles, looking up at him. “Your hair,” he replies.

“Right,” Ben says, glancing up as if he can see it. “I finally got it to work.”

“It looks great,” Gwilym says. He looks down, finally up close and personal with the infamous sheer shirt. His tongue quickly darts out, and then he looks back up at Ben. 

“We don’t have enough time,” Ben says.

Gwilym shakes his head. “No, we don’t. Not for what I have planned, anyway.”

Ben smiles and blushes, ducking his head. “What have you got planned?” he asks quietly.

“I’ll show you later,” Gwilym murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to Ben’s neck. “We gotta get going.”

Ben kisses him again, and then again, and then finally, reluctantly, rolls off his lap, dropping back down to the mattress. “How long have you wanted to do that for?” he asks, eyes flicking from Gwilym’s eyes to his mouth and then back up.

“Awhile,” Gwilym replies.

Ben smiles. “Yeah, me too.” He just can’t believe that Joe was _right_ ; this whole time, he was right. Gwilym wanted him too.

“So why weren’t we?” Gwilym asks, wrapping his arm around Ben’s shoulders, pulling him in.

Ben shrugs, and reaches up, starting to fiddle with Gwilym’s bow tie, not enough to make him have to retie it. “I was scared you didn’t want to,” he admitted. He chuckles. “I guess I should’ve listened to Joe, huh?”

“Let’s not tell him that,” Gwilym jokes.

Ben nods. He’s feeling sort of giddy with it all, the guy he’s been pining after for over a year is right here, right next to him, and they just _kissed_. He feels sort of sad about it too, though. Guilty, in a way. He feels bad for lying. And if he’d told Gwilym about it earlier, months earlier, they could’ve been doing it all the time. 

“You alright?” Gwilym asks. “I was expecting a bit more smiling, I think.”

Ben nods and drops his hands from Gwilym’s tie, curling them together on his lap. “I just need a sec,” he replies.

“Sorry,” Gwilym says, lifting his arm off Ben, shifting away from him. 

“No, no, not like that,” Ben says, reaching out to him. “I just— I’m a little stunned, I think? I had no idea you felt like that. And I was two seconds away from never telling you, I just wasn’t expecting—”

“I’m gonna go to Joe’s, give you a moment,” Gwilym says, giving him a quick kiss before standing up. He buttons up his jacket again. “Meet you there in a few?”

Ben nods, watching Gwilym straighten his jacket as he walks across the room. 

“Don’t be long,” Gwilym says before he ducks out into the hallway.

“I won’t,” Ben says to himself. He sits forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. The giddy feeling starts to erupt and he starts to smile. He tries biting down on his lip, but he can’t stop it. He’s beaming. He actually giggles. Gwilym _kissed_ him. He lifts his hand to his mouth, lightly tracing his fingers over his lips. “Shit,” Ben says suddenly, standing up and rushing to the bathroom, flicking on the lights. He leans forward, examining his face in the mirror. The skin around his mouth is slightly red, his lips looks swollen. Gwilym’s beard. Ben smiles, leaning back. It’ll fade by the time they’re in front of the cameras. And he has nowhere to be tomorrow.

He walks back out into his room, sliding his feet into his boots. He grabs his jacket again, sliding it on, and looks around, grabbing his phone, his key, his wallet. 

He bounces up and down a couple times before knocking on Joe’s door, trying to stop grinning so much, his cheeks already feel sore. The door opens just a crack, and all he can see are Joe’s eyes.

“Hey,” Ben says, giving him a quick wave.

Joe’s eyes narrow at him. 

Ben sighs and rolls his eyes, leaning forward so he can speak quietly. “I’m gonna tell him tonight,” he says. “Promise.” He doesn’t really feel bad for lying to Joe, he just wants to go a few more hours without anyone else knowing, while he can figure out what they are.

Joe’s eyes widen and he grins, pulling open the door. “Hey, Ben, come on in!”

“Cheers, mate,” Ben says, walking into the room. He catches Gwilym’s eyes and then shyly looks away.

“Are you seriously wearing that shirt again?” Joe asks, studying Ben’s outfit.

“Nice jacket, Ben!” Allen says, giving him a bright smile and a thumbs up.

Ben chuckles and twirls, giving them a look at the whole thing. 

“I think we all look pretty damn good,” Joe says, looking around the room.

“That jacket looks familiar,” Ben says, taking in Joe’s suit.

Joe shrugs, looking down. “Oh?” he asks, giving him a knowing grin.

“Where’s Jess?” Ben asks, looking at Allen.

“Still with Luce and Rami,” Allen replies, “she’s heading up in a couple minutes.”

“A toast?” Joe asks. “Before we do this thing?” He turns and walks over to the mini bar, opening the door and taking out four small bottles. He hands one to Allen, and then two to Ben, keeping one for himself.

Ben smiles and turns to Gwilym, handing him the drink, making sure that their fingers brush against each other.

Gwilym smiles back, twisting off the cap, lifting the bottle. The other three follow suit, and Gwilym glances around. “To…us?” he asks, laughing nervously.

“We _are_ the champions,” Joe says, and the rest of them roll their eyes.

“God, that’s awful,” Allen says.

“I don’t see you coming up with anything better!” Joe protests, playfully shoving him.

“Ben?” Gwilym asks, turning to him.

“Uh…” Ben looks around, unsure of what to say. His mind is trying to quickly run through as many Queen lyrics as he can. He slowly shakes his head, and starts to laugh. “Shit, I think that might be the best thing ‘round. Sorry, I got nothing.”

“Really, Ben?” Joe says. “Nothing? No speeches to make?”

Ben just shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Sure about that?”

“Oh, Christ,” Allen mutters, tossing back his drink. “Sláinte!”

“Cheers!” Joe says, clinking his bottle against all of theirs.

“Cheers,” Ben says, turning to Gwilym, smiling as their eyes meet.

\+ + + + +

There’s so much happening on the red (actually grey) carpet around them, Ben can hardly focus on the interviewer in front of them. The three of them have slowly been making their way up the press line, bumping into Lucy, but never seeing Rami. Allen has been appearing and then disappearing again every few minutes it seems, but he’s with them now. Every once in awhile, Gwilym’s hand will briefly press against his back, or drag along his leg; it looks casual and accidental to anyone who’s watching them, but Ben can tell. He hasn’t been able to think about much besides Gwilym’s promised plans since they got out of the car.

“What happens after the SAG Awards tonight, what do you have planned?”

Ben immediately grins, not even thinking as he turns to look at Gwilym; it takes a moment, but Gwilym looks down at him, smiling just as brightly. Ben can see Joe shake his head once, as if to warn him, and then he turns back to Allen, who’s got the mic in his face now.

“Uhh…” Allen trails off, looking at the rest of them. “Probably organize a brunch?” He starts to laugh, and so does Joe. Ben and Gwil just grin, making sure to watch him, and not each other.

\+ + + + +

As Ben predicted, Rami ends up winning, but they don’t. He’s okay with it. He thinks. It might be a bit bittersweet, he sure wouldn’t have minded going home with a trophy.

Gwilym discretely slides his hand into his as the three of them wait for the car to take them back to the hotel. “You look beat.”

“Hmm?” Ben asks, looking up. He feels it too, to be honest. He’s not sure why; he slept in late enough that morning, and it’s not even that late now. The day, the press, the after-party, it was just a lot. His eyes feel heavy. This is certainly not how he expected the night to be going.

They climb into the car together, Joe taking the front seat this time so that Gwilym and Ben can sit together in the back, Gwilym’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, Ben leaning against him, eyes closed. He thinks he might’ve drifted off back there, because the ride back to the hotel seems like it took no time at all. 

They ride the elevator up to their floor in near silence, except for the sound of Joe singing to himself and tapping his foot to the beat. The doors open and they step out, seeing nobody else around. They walk down the hall together, and come to Gwilym’s door first.

Ben shifts awkwardly. He’d planned on going in with him, but he didn’t plan on Joe being right there when he did. And he didn’t plan on being half-asleep for it either. He has no idea what Gwilym’s expecting him to do.

“Well, goodnight lads,” Gwilym says, unlocking his door. “It was fun.”

Ben bites down on his lip, looking at the floor.

“Goodnight,” Joe says, starting to walk away.

Ben glances after him, and then takes a step closer to Gwilym. “I—”

“You’re tired,” Gwilym says softly, looking down at him. “Go to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.” He smiles, and then gives him a quick kiss. “My plans can wait for a day.”

Ben feels disappointed in himself, but he can also feel a big yawn coming on, so he just nods. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Ben,” Gwilym says, and then he slips into his room.

Ben hurries after Joe to catch up with him. “I think I’m going to pass out as soon as I hit the mattress,” he admits, getting out his key.

“Don’t sleep in too late,” Joe says, “brunch, remember?”

“Right,” Ben says, and they stop at his room. “Goodnight, Joe.”

“Sleep tight, Benny.”

Ben tries not to roll his eyes at the nickname, and unlocks the door. He yawns again, and looks at his bed, so big and welcoming. He wants to just throw himself at it. He doesn’t, though. He takes off his boots and socks, and then walks to his closet, carefully hanging up his jacket, shirt, and trousers. He glances at the bathroom, wondering if he’s awake enough to brush his teeth. He decides he’s not, and climbs into bed, pulling the blankets up around him and closes his eyes.

The funny thing is, that once Ben is actually _in_ bed, suddenly he’s not tired anymore. He’s restless. He turns from one side to the other. He’s still yawning, but now actually falling asleep doesn’t seem like it’s going to be as easy as it did five or ten minutes ago.

He groans, pushing the blankets off him. He climbs out of bed and goes to the bathroom, deciding that he can probably brush his teeth now, anyway. He does, and then he has a quick pee before grabbing his phone out of his jacket pocket, and going back to bed. He starts scrolling through the pictures he took during the ceremony, and pictures that people have sent him from the red carpet. Joe was right, they do all look pretty damn good.

Ben adjusts his pillows so he can sit up a bit as he looks at his photos, coming across a selfie of the three of them that Joe had taken during a commercial break. Joe and Ben are smiling brightly at the camera, but Gwilym is just smiling at Ben. Ben smiles at it now, and then thinks for a moment.

He pushes the blankets off him again and climbs out of bed, looking around on the floor. He sees a t-shirt and picks it up, tugging it over his head. He grabs his key and doesn’t bother with shoes or socks. He opens the door and glances out into the hallway; it’s empty, so he quietly closes the door behind him and quickly walks down to Gwilym’s door.

Ben’s about to knock, when he stops. _Gwilym went to bed_ , he thinks. Just because he all of a sudden can’t sleep, doesn’t mean Gwilym’s awake in there. He could text him, but if Gwilym _is_ asleep, then a text asking him if he’s still up is going to be pretty embarrassing in the morning.

Ben takes a couple steps away from Gwilym’s door, then comes back feeling more determined. He let Gwil make the first move, he can do this. If he was asleep, then he’ll just apologize. Jesus, it hasn’t even been half an hour yet.

He knocks, and then looks around, bouncing his foot up and down. He decides he’s only going to give it a few seconds when he hears the door unlock, and it opens just enough for Gwil to stick his head out.

“Morning already?” Gwilym asks.

“Were you asleep?” Ben replies.

Gwilym shakes his head. “Not even close.”

Ben smiles. “Good.”

Gwilym reaches out and grasps onto Ben’s arm, tugging him into his room, locking the door again behind them. “I thought you were going to bed,” he says.

“So did I,” Ben replies. “Hope it’s okay that I didn’t.”

Gwilym nods eagerly. “I wanted you to come in, but I didn’t want you to think you had to.”

Ben tugs on his shirt, pulling it over his head, dropping it on the floor. “Trust me, I want to be here,” he says, and he steps forward, pulling Gwilym down into a kiss.

Gwilym steps back in surprise, then moves closer, pulling Ben in. The kiss is heated as Gwilym tries carefully to lead them backwards to his bed. He reaches out, feeling the mattress, then carefully sits down. 

Ben climbs onto Gwilym’s lap, straddling him for the second time that day. His arms come up to loop around Gwil’s shoulders, pulling him in. Gwilym’s arm curls around his lower back, holding him close, steadying him. His other hand is gripping Ben’s thigh, fingertips pushing up under the hem of his boxer briefs. Ben pulls back, looking between them. “I think you’ll find it easier if you go in from the top,” Ben says.

Gwilym looks up at him dumbly, and Ben reaches down with one hand, taking Gwilym’s hand from his leg to his hips. “Should we slow it down?” Gwilym asks, mouth grazing Ben’s.

“We haven’t done anything fast yet,” Ben replies. They’re about to, though. “I’ve never been with another guy,” he says suddenly, even though he knows Gwilym knows. Truth be told, though, he can’t say with 100 percent certainty if Gwilym’s ever been with a guy before or not. 

“I know,” Gwilym says, and he grips onto Ben’s waist, turning on the bed and manhandling him until they’re on the mattress, Ben flat beneath him. Ben’s looking up at him in surprise at how quickly their positions have changed. He’s not used to being with someone who’s strong enough to do that. Gwilym gets situated between Ben’s legs and then kisses him again, desperate for it. Ben clutches at his shoulders, his back, legs so easily falling apart so that Gwilym can start to rock against him. 

Gwilym kisses him deeply, and he can’t stop his hands from running all over any part of Ben’s body he can reach. He grips at his waist, and then hooks his fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs, starting to tug them down.

Ben lets a little whine when Gwilym pulls back, lifting his head to watch. He helps kick them off once they’re past his knees, and knows they’ve ended up on the floor. He swallows hard, feeling far more exposed than he thinks he ever has before. Only fair Gwil should feel that way too. “You next,” he says, running his hands down Gwilym’s back, starting to push at his underwear.

Gwilym finds it easier to just climb off the bed, take them off, and then climb back on top of Ben, fitting between his legs again.

Ben groans and lets out a bit of a disbelieving laugh as he clutches at Gwilym, holding him close as he starts to press his mouth all over his chest, sucking and biting hot marks into his skin. Gwilym’s beard is scratching at him, dragging across him with a bit of a burn that is almost too much. It’s literally like nothing he’s ever felt before; he wonders what his chest will look like in the morning. He thinks he should feel nervous at this point, but he doesn’t. Now that he’s actually here with Gwil, all that’s faded away.

“God you’re so pretty,” Gwilym murmurs, fingertips pressing into Ben’s skin. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” Ben asks, looking down at him.

Gwilym lifts his head, meeting Ben’s eyes. “What do you want me to do about it?” he asks, and he reaches down, wrapping his hand around Ben’s cock just to prove a point.

Ben cries out loudly, nodding. “Tha— that, that,” he says, keening as Gwilym starts to stroke him quickly, just the right amount of pressure. 

Gwilym shifts so that he’s half on Ben, half off, his mouth pressed to his neck just below his ear as he keeps moving his hand. The feeling of his facial hair against him makes Ben jump a bit. “Is that all?” he asks, breath warm on Ben’s ear.

Ben nods, clutching at Gwilym’s arm, thrusting his hips up. “For— oh god, for tonight.” He turns his head and nudges at Gwilym until they’re kissing again. God, he doesn’t think he’s _ever_ been this hard before, he’s positively aching, and he feels so wet. He can hear the sounds of it over their heavy breathing, Gwil’s hand sliding up and down on him.

“Do you want more?” Gwilym asks, and Ben meets his eyes. 

“I—” Ben takes a deep breath, muscles clenching, “I’m not— not ready.”

“Not that,” Gwilym replies, and he presses a kiss to Ben’s shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“Uh-huh,” Ben nods eagerly, and then Gwilym is pressing at his arm. He doesn’t get it or understand why, but after a second he figures out that Gwilym’s trying to get him to roll over. He curls onto his side, and then Gwilym keeps pushing, so he unsteadily gets on his hands and knees, clutching at the bed. 

“Good boy,” Gwilym says, pressing kisses over Ben’s shoulders, moving down his back.

Ben groans loudly at that, pressing his forehead to the mattress. His back arches as Gwilym’s mouth keeps moving down, and he shifts his weight so he can reach down to start stroking himself. He feels Gwilym move on the mattress behind him, and then feels Gwil’s hands on his ass, and he knows his entire body’s gone red.

“Okay?” Gwilym asks, pressing a kiss to his tailbone.

Ben squeezes his eyes shut but nods anyway. He feels a bit mortified and uncomfortable, but still far too turned on to tell him to stop. If Gwil really wants to…well, who’s Ben to say no. He cries out loudly, voice breaking at the first press of Gwil’s tongue to him. As Gwil pushes his face further against him, his beard scratching at places Ben doesn’t even want to think about, Ben takes a big whooping breath before he cries out loudly, collapsing from his hands down to his elbows. He lets go of his cock to just clutch at the bed, rocking back and forth.

Ben’s change in position means he’s open even further now, back arched, and Gwilym follows him, groaning appreciatively. Ben huffs a little laugh, smiling. He’s never been taken apart like this, and he’s happy to know that Gwil’s enjoying it probably almost as much as he is.

Gwilym’s own cock is hard, hanging heavy between his legs, but taking his hands off Ben to touch himself doesn’t seem like an option right now. He digs his fingers into him, holding him apart as he presses his tongue harder, lapping at his skin in such a way that he can’t help the noises he makes.

As Ben rocks back and forth against Gwilym, his cock drags on the bed beneath him. He gasps and moans, and tries to push himself up a bit so he can take himself in hand again, but a particularly hard flick of the tongue has Ben falling down again. “Gwil, _yes_ , ah, Gwil,” he whines, “please don’t stop, _please_ don’t, I’m— fuck, _Gwil_.” It’s almost torture to Ben; he knows he’ll come as soon as he can touch himself, but his mind is cloudy and he can’t bring himself to actually do it. It just feels too _much_. He almost screams when Gwil’s mouth disappears from him, he’s in shock to have lost the sensation, but then before he can look back to protest, there’s the press of a finger against him, sliding past the loosened muscle.

Ben gasps, “ _fuck_ ,” and then finally reaches down to grab his cock, jerking himself furiously. It’s only a few seconds of his fingers on him and Gwil’s finger _in_ him and he comes. Probably louder than he thinks he’s ever came before, he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut as he keeps rocking back and forth, thrusting into his fist, pressing back against Gwil, wanting more now. “ _Gwil_ , fuck, please, fuck me, fuck me, ugh, please, don’t stop.”

Gwilym’s fucking tempted beyond belief to listen to Ben’s words now instead of what he said earlier, imagining just pushing himself up a bit and sliding his dick right in, hips slamming against Ben’s, but he doesn’t. That’s not for tonight; Ben doesn’t really mean it and they both know it. He fingers him for a bit longer until Ben whines and drags his hips away from him, Gwil’s finger sliding out. He wipes his hand on the sheets, an unfortunate side effect, and then presses another couple kisses to him, admiring the way his beard has left Ben’s skin so red.

Ben curls up on his side, then takes a moment to get the effort to roll onto his back, groaning as he feels himself hit the wet spot beneath him. He reaches out to Gwilym, eyes hooded, lips shiny and red. “Come on,” he says breathlessly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looks at Gwilym’s cock. “Want you to.”

Gwilym crawls forward, body over Ben’s, braced on his left hand as he jerks himself off furiously with his right. He comes onto Ben’s stomach, watching as Ben arches into it a bit, both of them gasping. Gwilym strokes himself a few more times, then finally lets his left hand slide on the bed so he collapses onto his side, curled against Ben.

“You,” Ben begins, still panting a bit, chuckling softly, “you are fucking _filthy_ , Gwil.” Ben laughs again, in a dazed sort of disbelief, staring up at the ceiling. “Fuck _me_ ,” he mutters.

Gwilym smiles and presses his mouth to Ben’s shoulder, nodding against him. “Someday.”

Ben laughs again. “You fucking better. Jesus.”

They lay there together for moments on end, drifting into minutes, Ben’s eyes closed, Gwilym just watching the rise and fall of his chest, until Ben finally makes a move, carefully pushing himself off the bed. His first steps are a little bit wobbly, and Gwilym smiles smugly. 

Ben flicks on the light, studying himself in the bathroom mirror. Jesus, he looks a fucking mess, he thinks. He wets one of the washcloths and wipes it over his stomach. “You fucking wrecked me, mate!” he calls out to Gwilym. “I look like hell.” He keeps wiping at himself, then looks around, wondering what he should do with this cloth that he’s guessing nobody will want to touch. He frowns, then just drops it on the floor by the shower. He walks back out, looking at Gwilym. “Is there room enough for me in that bed tonight?” he asks.

Gwilym smiles. “I suppose so.” He moves over, making enough space for Ben to lay down without having to sleep in his own come. “Yeah, get comfy, I’ll be right back.”

“You better be brushing your fucking teeth, mate,” Ben says, punching a couple of the pillows, pulling up the big blankets to cover himself.

“It was _your_ ass,” Gwilym points out, and Ben just smiles.

“Yeah, my fucking point,” he murmurs, rolling onto his side. When Gwilym slides back into the bed beside him, he can smell mint. He opens his eyes just enough to locate his lips, and then leans in, giving him a kiss. “Jesus Gwil, you are…something else.”

Gwilym smiles and kisses him again, curling his arm over Ben’s waist. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he replies.

“Mm,” Ben murmurs, snuggling against Gwilym’s chest, closing his eyes again. “I should’ve said something months ago,” he says softly. 

“Me too,” Gwilym agrees, brushing his fingers through Ben’s now absolutely dishevelled hair, gently twisting it around a curl.

Ben bites his lip and then presses a kiss to Gwilym’s chest, just trying to not think of wasted time. “Sleep now,” he says, shifting his legs to press closer to him.

“We can talk later,” Gwilym nods, settling against him, closing his eyes.

They rest there in the silence, for how long, Gwil isn’t sure, until he thinks that Ben’s fallen asleep. That’s when Ben speaks again.

“I’m sad we didn’t win,” Ben admits quietly, mouth grazing Gwilym’s chest as he speaks. “I wanted you and Joe to win.”

Gwilym smiles and carefully rolls onto his back, tugging Ben onto his chest. He starts gently running his fingertips up and over his back and his arm, watching Ben shiver. “I wanted you to win too,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of Ben’s head. “Get some sleep, Ben.”

Ben nods tiredly, and finally starts to slip under.

\+ + + + +

Ben slowly drifts awake, hearing what he thinks might be a knock at the door. He groans softly, rolling to his side. He opens his eyes, blinking a couple times to read the clock. It’s not as early as he thought, but he’s still not sure who would be knocking at his door right now. There’s another one, and he pushes the blankets off him, dropping his feet to the floor. He reaches down, grabbing his underwear off the floor, and awkwardly jumps into them, tugging them up his legs as he walks to the door. He quickly glances in the peephole, and then unlocks the door. “Morning,” he says, opening the door just a bit.

“Hey man—” Joe starts, but he freezes, realizing he’s looking at Ben.

Ben yawns loudly, waiting for Joe to continue. 

“Where’s Gwil?” Joe asks, a smile slowly growing on his face.

Ben scratches at his chest, and glances to the right. “Gwil’s room is down the ha—” His voice drops off, turning ‘hall’ into a three-syllable word. _Shit_.

“Oh, is it?” Joe asks, and he starts playfully pushing at Ben. “Is it down the hall? Because I thought _this_ was Gwil’s room.”

“Stop it,” Ben says, trying to pull back from him, but then Joe’s hands are on his shoulders. 

“And why are you in Gwil’s room, Ben?” Joe asks. “Huh? Huh? I thought you went back to your own room last night, huh?”

Ben bats at Joe’s hands. “Jesus Joe, where do you get the energy?”

Joe waggles his eyebrows. “How much energy were you using last night?” he asks. He starts bouncing up and down on his feet, trying to look past Ben into the room. “Where is he?”

Ben glances behind him, finally realizing that he can hear the shower running. “Bathroom,” he replies.

“Jesus, look at those hickies,” Joe says, stepping back as if to study him. 

“What?” Ben asks in surprise, his hand immediately going to his neck.

“Uh, nope,” Joe says, reaching out to lift Ben’s hand off his neck, moving it down to his chest. “And the beard burn. Wow. Alright. I mean, any thoughts I had about you two having a completely innocent sleepover have completely flown out the window. I’m starting to think that you guys had _sex_!”

Ben looks down at his chest, examining the mark on his left pectoral, a couple inches above his nipple. God he really wishes he’d grabbed a shirt. There’s no easy way to hide it from Joe, so he just awkwardly crosses his arms.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Joe says, putting his hands on his hips. “You finally _told_ him. _And_ you put out on literally the first day. You’re so fucking easy, dude.”

Ben cocks an eyebrow, when suddenly Joe pulls him in for a hug, squeezing him tight. Ben sighs and hesitates for a moment before finally bringing his arms up, hugging him back. This feels like an odd conversation for them to be having at the door, when Ben’s standing there in just his underwear and Joe’s fully dressed.

Joe pulls back, still grinning at him. “Good for you,” he says, and he means it. 

Ben smiles and looks away, feeling very naked and very shy. “Why are you here, Joe?” he asks.

“Brunch!” Joe announces. “You two weren’t answering your phones, though obviously now I know why. When do you think you’ll be ready?”

“I— I don’t know,” Ben replies, shaking his head. “I forgot.” He glances back at the bathroom door when he hears the water turn off. “I still have to shower,” he replies.

“I’m surprised you two aren’t into conserving water,” Joe replies, and then he’s playfully poking at Ben again, “if you know what I mean. Well, I’m gonna head back to my room then. Text me when you’re— hi, Gwil!” he says brightly, waving eagerly.

Ben turns, watching Gwil walk out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, chest still shining wet. He bites down on the corner of his lip.

“Uh, morning,” Gwilym says uncertainly, surprised to see Joe there.

“Are we still on for brunch?” Joe asks. “That’s why I’m here. To ask. About brunch. Allen sent me. I texted, you can ignore those.”

“Um…” Gwilym looks at Ben, who just shrugs, scratching his arm. “Yeah? We need to get dressed, though. Give us a few?”

“Just come get me when you’re ready,” Joe says, smiling. “And try not to get distracted, I’m starving.” He waves again. “See ya!”

Ben leans out into the hallway, watching Joe walk down the hall for a few moments before he feels Gwil’s hand on his arm, and he turns, looking up at him. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and then Gwil’s mouth is on his. Gwilym tugs him back into the room, shutting the door, and then Ben finds himself pressed against it. 

“Good morning,” Gwilym says, meeting Ben’s eyes before leaning back in.

Ben smiles into the kiss, running his hands up Gwilym’s back, feeling him shiver beneath his fingers. “Good morning.”

“So,” Gwilym says, “Joe.”

Ben smiles again. “Sorry,” he repeats. “I…wasn’t thinking when I opened the door.”

Gwilym shrugs and then walks over to his suitcase, digging through it and pulling out his comfortable clothes. “I don’t care, do you?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. He tugs the towel off, and starts drying off his legs.

Ben slumps against the door, his mouth falling open a bit. Gwilym looks over at him again, and Ben straightens up. “Uh, uh, no, not really. He’s Joe, he was going to figure it out anyway.”

“I just assumed he already knew,” Gwilym replies, leaning down to tug on a pair of grey sweatpants. 

Ben smiles. “Uh, well, he didn’t know… _this_ ,” he replies, “but yeah, he knew that I wanted…” He swallows hard. “That’s okay?”

Gwilym smiles. “Of course. He’s one of my best mates.” He bends at the waist, quickly scrubbing the towel over his hair, leaving it a bit of a mess as he tugs his shirt on. “And I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” Ben says, breathing a sigh of relief that he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Me neither.”

“Are you getting dressed?” Gwilym asks. “Not that I’m complaining…” He noticeably runs his eyes over Ben’s body, smiling as he looks back up at his eyes.

“I thought I’d shower first,” Ben replies, wondering if he’s actually blushing right now.

“Damn, I should’ve waited,” Gwilym says, climbing onto the bed. He stretches out, watching Ben across the room. “I know Joe said to not get too distracted, but,” he sighs. “You look good in the morning.”

Ben smiles and looks down, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“Like a bloody model,” Gwilym says, folding on his arms behind his head. “Jesus, are you _trying_ to turn me on right now?”

Ben shakes his head and walks across the room, climbing onto the bed, sitting beside him. “I’m not, but I can, if you want me to.”

Gwilym smiles and reaches out, taking Ben’s hand, tugging him closer until Ben is leaning over him, one hand pressed into the mattress on either side of him. He tilts his head and leans up, kissing him. “That’s very tempting,” he murmurs, reaching up to curl his fingers into Ben’s hair. 

Ben moans softly, and Gwilym takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, pulling him in even closer. Ben’s fingers curl into the bed sheets, and he shifts his weight, lifting his leg so that he can settle onto Gwilym’s hips, leaning over him as they keep kissing. He thinks he could really get used to being on top of him. “What about brunch?” he murmurs against Gwilym’s lips, moving his mouth over Gwilym’s jaw, then down his neck. 

“I’m not hungry,” Gwilym replies, moving his hands from Ben’s hips to the hem of his shirt, starting to tug it up.

Ben chuckles, sitting up and helping Gwilym take off the shirt he had just put on. “Joe’s going to be so disappointed,” he says, dropping Gwilym’s shirt to the floor. 

“Joe can wait,” Gwilym says, “this can’t.” Gwilym groans softly as Ben starts to gently rock against him. “Jesus, Ben,” he says, reaching up to cup Ben’s cheek. Ben tilts his head just a bit and kisses the pad of Gwilym’s thumb before sucking it between his plump lips. Gwilym watches him in wonderment, and he can feel his cock stirring in his sweatpants. “I want to stay in this room all day.”

Ben laughs loudly, Gwilym’s thumb falling away from his mouth. “That’s a bit much, I think,” he replies.

“Really?” Gwilym asks. “I don’t.”

“When are you leaving?” Ben asks suddenly. It just hits him right then, this isn’t their life. It’s not their city, or even their country. This is just a hotel room; last night was just a big party. Staying in the room all day might not even be an option.

“I’m staying here forever, I just told you,” Gwilym says. But Ben just cocks his head to the side, waiting for him to answer. “Tomorrow. I fly out first thing tomorrow, get into Park City around 11, start the presses.” He sighs and rests his hand on Ben’s hip, studying his face. 

Ben smiles. “It’s going to be so good for you,” he murmurs. He’s trying to sound cheerful and proud, instead of just sad. He curls his fingers into the drawstring of Gwilym’s sweatpants to distract himself.

“I’m really excited,” Gwilym admits, “I can’t wait to see it, and see the gang again.”

“My boyfriend at Sundance,” Ben says quietly, looking down at his fingers, then he realizes what he’s said and his fingers tighten on the fabric. “Uh, I— huh, that’s not what I meant, really, I was just—”

“Why not?” Gwilym asks, interrupting him, smirking.

“Uh…” Ben’s brow furrows in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Why can’t I be your boyfriend?” Gwilym asks. “I think I’d be quite good at it. I can cook you dinner, and we can walk Frankie together."

Ben’s frozen for a moment, before a smile slowly erupts on his face. “That’s okay?” he asks. “You’re— my boyfriend?” he repeats. He chuckles. “We haven’t even gone a date yet; I ain’t that easy.”

Gwilym rolls his eyes and tugs Ben down into a kiss. “You’re pretty easy,” he murmurs, nipping at his lips. “Total slag. Only took me a couple hours to get you into bed.”

Ben snorts, breaking the kiss for just a moment before moving back in. He curled his fingers into Gwil’s short hair, holding him still as he moves his mouth over his jawline, sucking on the skin just below his ear. “Took me fucking forever to get you into bed, mate.” He pulls back, licking his lips as he does, not even really thinking about it, but he can tell by the look on Gwilym’s face that he likes it. He shifts his weight and then reaches between them, slipping his hand under the waistband of Gwil’s sweatpants.

\+ + + + +

Ben feels uncomfortable under the weight of the look Joe’s giving the two of them as they approach the table where he and Allen have already been served.

Joe glares at them over the rim of his mimosa. “I want it on the record that I’m mad at you.”

“Sorry we’re late, mates,” Gwilym says, tugging out Ben’s chair for him, then sitting down next to him. “Joe, yes, I know, I’m sorry.”

Ben smiles, looking over at Gwilym. He squeezes Gwil’s thigh, then keeps his hand resting there, under the table. 

“In fact, I’m not— _mad_ isn’t even strong enough for how I feel right now. Come on, guys! You’re destroying the sacred time of day that is my brunch time. Do you know how _hungry_ I was?”

Gwilym chuckles and brings one hand up, taking a drink of water, reaching down with the other to take Ben’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t think I don’t see this shit!” Joe says. “I mean, come _on_ guys, you’re just rubbing it in my face right now.”

Suddenly Ben feels Gwilym’s hand on his arm, tugging him in. Gwilym leans down to give him a quick kiss, and Ben smiles against his mouth.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Allen says loudly, staring at the two of them in shock.

Ben snorts with laughter, pulling away from Gwilym to look at Allen in surprise.

“ _Really_?” Joe says, turning to Allen.

“When’d this happen?” Allen asks. “I— I missed something.”

“Yes, you did,” Joe says.

“It’s alright, Allen,” Ben assures him, “it’s—” he looks up at Gwilym. “It’s new. You didn’t miss much.”

“Well, good,” Allen says. “I’m glad. And I’m happy. Handsome couple.”

“And Joe, what can we do to make it up to you?” Ben asks gently, giving him a teasing smile as he reaches over with his right hand, trying to take Joe’s. 

“I’m going to fucking think of something and you’re going to hate it,” Joe says, snatching his hand back. “Allen, back me up on this, they abandoned us for _sex_.”

“Honestly Joe, if I’d known how late they were going to be, Jess and I probably would’ve stayed in bed a bit longer ourselves,” Allen replies, taking a bite of his toast.

“I’m surrounded by traitors!” Joe announces. “Horny traitors. Let me tell you something, Ben.”

Ben tilts his head and waits expectantly for Joe to continue. 

Joe opens his mouth to speak, pausing a moment for dramatic effect, and then leans in, playfully bumping shoulders with him. “Was it good, is he nice, is he—” he trails off and waggles his eyebrows. “You know?”

“Never speak to me again,” Ben says, taking a sip of water, leaning closer to Gwilym.

“Alright, Gwil, gonna throw those questions over to you,” Joe says, shifting in his seat.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, Joe,” Gwilym says, leaning forward.

Joe rolls his eyes. “Good thing I don’t know any gentlemen, then.”

“Hey!” Allen says.

“So two of my best friends are now dating, and they made me late for brunch, which is now technically a lunch, and they won’t even give me any sordid details of their sex life?” Joe continues. “Guys, what the fuck? I thought we had something special. Besides, you wouldn’t even be together if it weren’t for me, so I expect something in return.”

“You literally had nothing to do with this,” Gwilym says.

Joe snorts. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. Whose idea was it to get ready separately, meaning that I could then lock you out of my room, forcing the two of you to be alone together while you waited for me, because I ' _wasn’t ready yet_ ' when in reality I was ready. I was ready and eating your sandwich, _I_ was the one waiting for _you_ , waiting for you two of you to get your goddamn shit together. Just like I have been since day one.”

Ben and Gwilym glance at each other, surprised amusement on both of their faces. 

“So yeah, give me a little credit here,” Joe says, rolling his eyes. 

Ben smiles and leans over, giving Joe a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Joe,” he says.

“Well, now you’re just being a dick,” Joe says. “A gift, I meant a gift. At least a card.”

“Can we order, please?” Gwilym asks, looking around for their server.

“I’m not done here!” Joe says. “Don’t think I’m done here.”

Gwilym sighs, turning back to Joe. “Yes Joe, I know. That’s why I need something to eat, I have to keep my energy up to deal with you.” He smirks and turns to Ben. “Plus, I had a very tiring morning.”

Ben smiles, leaning against him. “And I’m planning on a very tiring night.”

“I think we might be getting too much information,” Allen mutters, mostly to himself. Joe on the other hand seems to be eating it up, watching the two of them with a huge smile on his face.

“I am the best matchmaker in the world,” he announces, watching the two of them in amazement. “Go Joe.”

**Author's Note:**

> because YES we all saw the pictures of them outside of the SAG pre-party and then that look they shared on the red carpet and guys, I just really love to read these two together, and then I had to write them together (and yes I do almost feel guilty about it, thanks for asking). I obviously don't know them so I don't exactly why I've chosen to write Joe like _this_ (aka a bit much) but here we are. bless anybody who reads this and likes it, I hope you do.


End file.
